


Anyday

by LindaO



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: "Ordinary Tasks" drabble challenge, Birthday, Friendship, Gen, but not really, but shorter than most of my stuff!, is it spring yet?, not a drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-14
Updated: 2014-03-14
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:01:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1310755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LindaO/pseuds/LindaO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you get a billionaire who has everything - and won't even tell you when his birthday is? Reese comes up with an answer. Friendship only. Written for the Ordinary Tasks Drabble Challenge on the Person of Interest Discussion Forum.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anyday

John Reese tried to walk evenly, but his irregular load threw his pace off. Of course Finch noticed his altered gait. “Mr. Reese?”

“I got it, Finch.”

“ _What_ exactly have you got?” Finch stood up at his desk.

“Your anyday present.”

“My … what?”

“Anyday.” Reese grinned and held up his right hand. He held a large, elegant birdfeeder, styled like a miniature Victorian cottage. “I know you won’t tell me when your birthday is, and you’d get all squirmy if I found out. So I’ve decided that March 15th is your anyday.”

“The … Ides of March?” Finch asked carefully. “And I do not get _squirmy_.”

“It’s the day the buzzards return to Hinkley, Ohio.”

“Buzzards.”

“They’re really very useful birds. Important to the ecosystem …”

“Mr. Reese.”

John held the birdfeeder out to him. “Here. Come with me.”

Still clearly bewildered, Finch took the birdfeeder and followed him down the corridor. Reese carried the 50-pound bag of birdseed. At the end of the hallway, he pushed open the wide window. As a former operative, of course he’d carefully scouted the location. It opened over the courtyard of the library, so increased avian traffic wouldn’t be noticed from the street, and there was a rather scraggly tree that would give the birds cover between meals. He’d anchored a long hook in the wall just to the right of the window, within easy reach for refilling.

He took the feeder from his partner’s hand and hung it on the hook. Then he opened the birdseed, took a paper cup from his pocket, filled it, and offered it to Finch. “Will you do the honors?”

“Mr. Reese, I …” Finch blinked at him. “I won’t be able to see the birds, I’m afraid.”

“I should have thought of that. Oh, wait, I did.” John gave him a knowing smile and nodded toward the surveillance camera he’d installed on the other side of the window. “You can watch them from your desk.” He shrugged. “You don’t get out of the library often enough. I thought I’d bring it in to you.” Then he gestured again. “Go ahead.”

Finch’s mouth worked into a narrow line and then a tight smile. “I don’t … that is … I …” He gave up, stepped forward, and poured the cup of food into the feeder. “We’ll need a bigger scoop, I’m afraid.”

Reese nodded. “Some kind of bin, too, for the seed. This is just for starters. I wasn’t sure what kind of birds you wanted to attract. Tell me what to get and I’ll bring it.” He took the cup and refilled it, handed it back to Finch.

Finch poured the second cup into the feeder. He touched it gently, lingeringly, then pulled the window shut. “Thank you, Mr. Reese. I’m sure it will bring me a great deal of enjoyment.”

John felt his cheeks get warm. “Happy anyday, Harold.”

They walked back to the main room. Finch sat at his desk and quickly accessed the new camera. They both looked at the elegant white birdhouse on the screen. There were no birds yet, but Reese was confident there would be soon. He grinned, inordinately pleased with himself. _What do you get the reclusive billionaire who has everything?_ At least once, he’d gotten the answer right.

Finch glanced up from the screen and smiled back. “Thank you, John. It’s very thoughtful. And quite, quite wonderful.”

“You’re welcome.” Reese didn’t know what else to say, and he was a little embarrassed by the silence. “I need some coffee.”

As he reached the doorway, Finch said, “September seventh.”

Reese turned. His partner was staring fixedly at his screen. There were still no birds at the feeder, but he watched it intently anyhow. “What?”

“September seventh.” Finch finally turned his head. “And thank you, for not insisting.”

John grinned to himself. _You catch more bees with honey_ , his mother used to say – and you catch more Finches with birdseed. Anyday was a success. And spring was finally off to a good start.


End file.
